Realism is Underrated
by TEi Has Pants
Summary: It's tough being the sole realist in a group of optimists. Nick's had to make compromises ever since the infection hit, but why in the hell does he trust these three strangers?


_**Left 4 Dead 2**_

**Realism is Underrated**

**Author's Note:** All characters and events are the express copyright of Valve. This story is meant for entertainment purposes, nothing more, nothing less.

It was hard being the sole realist in a group of optimists.

Nick had always been a loner, had learned to never trust anybody but himself when running his latest scam, swindling the dupe of the week from every cent he was worth. Other people were to be manipulated; he'd rope some dumbass in to help him on occasion, leaving him or her with a small cut of what they'd stolen while taking off with the rest. You had to know when to fold, always had to pay attention to when things got too hot, when the cops were onto you and were about to close in and shut you down. Sure, it wasn't the safest lifestyle, and you never stayed in one place for more than a few months, but it was money, and Nick _liked_ money. That's why it was important to plant yourself firmly in reality, to acknowledge the bad as well as the good, or else you'd be rotting in prison before finishing your act.

(He remembered his first scam, too: selling crappy vacuums door-to-door. Promise a lot, deliver a little, subtract the difference and stuff that in your pockets. Even before the infection hit, it had felt like a lifetime ago...now even moreso as his world had been upended.)

This new life, though - it felt like _Nick_ was the one being scammed. Coach, Ellis and Rochelle - they were good people, too good for Nick's company in any other circumstances, but the four of them were stuck together whether the conman wanted it or not. After spending the last few days wading through zombies, fighting to survive, always so close to freedom and yet denied at the last second...Nick would be lying if he'd had to make some compromises and actually _trust_ them. Yeah, it'd been hard at first, but that's where realism came in handy: he needed the other three, he'd use them to escape, to get away, and screw 'em if they died along the way, right? Gotta look out for number one.

That had been his initial mindset, at least. Then that Smoker had grabbed him with its tongue (ew ew _ew_) and pulled him away over a catwalk spanning over the mall's atrium, with Jimmy Gibbs Jr.'s race car nestled against a wall. He'd grabbed onto the edge of the catwalk, a last-second act of desperation, heart pounding, chest gone tight, but the Smoker was still pulling on him and Nick already felt his grip slipping -

That's when the others came to his rescue. Coach and Rochelle had grabbed his wrists, and Ellis used his sniper rifle to pick the Smoker off, exploding with that tell-tale sigh (barely audible through the din of the horde always, always rushing at you, never stopping). Then they hauled him up - over the ledge again, the adrenalin rush making Nick's hands shake, his breath short, and it was then that reality set in. He couldn't just manipulate these people to meet his own ends; looking out for number one was no longer an option, not if he wanted to survive. They'd rescued him without hesitation, hadn't paused to decide if Nick was worth saving or not. The world was different now. Money held no meaning; _this_ was the new reality, he had to survive, there were no other options.

He needed to trust them. Fortunately, adaptation came side-by-side with realism.

They'd been through so much together; they'd fought Tanks and Witches and Chargers and gotten puked on and nearly eviscerated and covered in burning goo. They'd bonded, something alien to Nick, but something he had gradually gotten used to. Coach, Ellis and Rochelle might have been optimists, but they were his friends, at least. Nick hadn't had one of those since high school - hadn't needed 'em, really.

Don't get him wrong - Nick wasn't allergic to optimism! He could see the bright side of things when necessary. There was a very fine, distinct line between pessimism and realism, a line Nick could identify and walk on without a problem. The others...it wasn't a surprise that they didn't know any better. They couldn't see the truth, even though they'd seen the bodies outside of that checkpoint area with the trailer and the alarm, or inside the sewer. They still thought salvation laid at the other end of this bridge.

Nick had gone along with a lot of stupid shit since meeting the others in Georgia. Stealing Jimmy Gibbs Jr.'s car, cutting through a wedding with a _Witch_ in the center aisle (okay, that had been pretty satisfying), intentionally attracting the horde several times in order to call rescue, running along the tracks of a roller coaster...but this was, by far, the stupidest of the lot.

The military wasn't here to save them. Nick cast a glance over the edge of the bridge, to the glistening water sparkling in the midday sun far below. He hiked his collar up against a sudden chill that had settled in on all sides despite the oppressive southern heat, and frowned as another military jet roared past overhead, deafening him for just a second. Coach went over to the radio clutched in the hands of the dead man propped up against a safety barricade, picked it up, interrupted the banter of two military pilots...and Nick let his eyes slide shut. Why the hell did he insist on rushing headlong into this? He _knew_ how it was going to end, and the other three didn't want any part of it, try as he might to tell them. It could be out of duty, god knows he owes the others enough. (Or maybe it's the other way around? He hadn't really been keeping track of how many times they'd had to save each other.) Or maybe he wanted to protect them, even though it was a futile effort. Or maybe his best chance is _still_ with these three blind, wonderful idiots, just like he'd found out in the mall. Or maybe, just maybe...because they were friends. God, how corny is that?

Either way, the military wouldn't save them at all, and _that_ was reality.


End file.
